


By the Sea

by potter_queen



Series: Burning [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 05:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20420768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_queen/pseuds/potter_queen
Summary: This is a preview to something I have been working on for a while, and putting a lot of love into. I just want to test the waters, I guess. If you read this, please let me know what you think!This is an extract from a chapter I particularly like.





	By the Sea

“Do you like the sea, Potter?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s nice, isn’t it? Relaxing.” Truth be told, Harry could not remember the last time he had been to the seaside, much less gone swimming. He suspected it was the last time he had been here in Saltburn, when he had swam as a kind of physical therapy. It felt odd to Harry that he looked back on his time being badly injured and out of action with such fondness.

“I love it. We used to come to the seaside all the time when I was a child, and we lived by the sea in France. I haven’t been nearly enough since I came home. I don’t think I’ve been swimming since I left France.”

“I can’t remember the last time I was swimming.” As the words left Harry’s mouth he heard the challenge in them, or at least what he knew Malfoy would perceive as a challenge. A grin began to form on his face as he watched the wheels in Malfoy’s brain turning. Slowly, the blonde turned to him, his mouth smiling and his eyes full of mischief.

“Potter, are you telling me you want to go for a swim?”

Harry let out a delighted laugh. “You know what, Malfoy, I guess I am.”

“Oh you’re on, Potter.”

Harry felt like flying, he felt like he was back at school, he felt like how little Rosie and Hugo had looked when they were playing with Malfoy.

Malfoy was making very short work of undressing. His coat was already neatly folded on top of his shoes, revealing long, thin feet that were so pale they were nearly translucent. The straining tendons of his feet looked like they could snap at any moment. Harry wanted to wrap them up and keep them warm.

Now, he was undoing his shirt buttons with nimble fingers, watching Harry with bright eyes and a grin. Harry toed off his trainers and socks, and pulled his hoodie off over his head, surpressing a shiver.

Before he knew it Malfoy was folding his shirt and adding it to his pile, and Harry was pulling off his tshirt to keep up, resolutely not looking at Malfoy’s chest.

And then Malfoy was stepping out of his trousers, and Harry had a split second of pale creamy thighs and pointy hip bones exposed by the low slung charcoal grey boxers… before Malfoy was off, dashing towards the ocean, his shout of “race you!” floating behind him in the wind.

Harry nearly tripped over himself trying to pull off his jeans and follow Malfoy. Malfoy may have had the head start, but Harry was fit after years of daily training, and had soon caught up. He outstripped Malfoy with a shout and laughed when he heard Malfoy curse loudly behind him.

Harry was reminded of baptism as he ran into the waves. The water got deep quickly and Harry was soon up to his hips, and with a deep breathe he dove in, emerging gasping from the cold water, laughing again despite himself.

He turned to find Malfoy standing in the water behind him, clutching his side and wheezing. Harry squinted at the blonde, vision fuzzy from abandoning his glasses on the beach. Malfoy was glowing white against the blue sea and sky. “Merlin’s beard, Potter. You’ve put me to shame.”

“Sorry about it, old man.” Harry replied, flicking a little water at him, lying back to float on his back. Malfoy squawked indignantly and all of a sudden, Harry felt himself being pushed under the water.

Under here, the world was so peaceful, even though the salt stung his eyes and a bit of water had gone up his nose. He could just about make out Malfoy’s skinny legs and those boxers which had turned black in the water-

He jumped up with a shout in order to shove Malfoy under. When the blonde emerged he was laughing and sticking out his hand. “Truce, Potter?”

Harry shook his hand, and tried not to hang on for too long.

They swam until Malfoy started shivering and Harry insisted the got out. Harry felt endlessly glad that he could not see Malfoy properly, otherwise he likely would have been staring and creeping him out.

They got out of the water, and Malfoy cast a strong drying charm on the both of them, after checking around for passing muggles. Harry turned away slightly as they dressed, too nervous to look too much at Malfoy. It had been hours since they left London, and Harry was sure Malfoy was supposed to be back at work, but Malfoy had not said anything yet, and the last thing Harry wanted to do was wrap up this day already.

When they were all dressed and ready again, Malfoy began to head back towards the pier, Harry followed meekly. Malfoy spoke again as they ascended the steps off the beach.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Potter, but I am well and truly starving.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin. It seemed Malfoy wasn’t quite ready to wrap up the day either. He took the steps two at a time to catch up with Malfoy and knock their shoulders together. “I could eat.”

They ended up sitting on a bench overlooking the pier, boxes of hot, salty fish and chips in their laps. Harry had pulled the hood of his jumper up to shield off the wind, and was digging enthusiastically into his chips, noisily licking his greasy fingers while Malfoy cringed in mock disgust. Malfoy himself had transfigured a stone into a silver fork and was picking delicately at his food, his legs crossed and his back straight. Harry watched him, marvelling at how the git made eating fish and chips look posh. He asked him as much.

“Good breeding, Potter.” 

Harry sniggered, taking a bite out of his hunk of fish. “You make yourself sound like a greyhound.”

Malfoy hummed thoughtfully. “I would be a greyhound. If I was a dog.”

Harry snorted inelegantly. Malfoy came out with such strange things, sometimes. “Alright. What would I be? You know. If I was a dog.”

Malfoy turned and considered him seriously. His fork hovered in front of him, a neatly pierced chip balancing on the end. After several moments, Malfoy nodded decisively. “German shepherd.”

“And why is that?” Harry asked in amusement. 

“Well.” Malfoy chewed his chip thoughtfully. Harry watched his jaw muscles jump as he swallowed. “They’re very loyal. And strong. And self sacrificing. They don’t like not working. They don’t like being alone.”

Harry had to look away, suddenly very interested in his chips. Was he that transparent? “H-how do you know all that?”

“We had some, in the Manor. We had a lot of animals, actually, when I was growing up. No prizes for guessing what happened to them all.”

The wind blew around them, and the sea stretched out farther than they could see, and Harry felt naked, but not scared. People passed by and didn’t look twice at The Boy Who Lived and an ex-Death Eater sitting on a bench eating fish and chips. 

Here and now, Harry was just no one in particular. He was just a guy in a pair of old jeans and a hoody, having lunch with a friend. He wondered in Malfoy liked being anonymous too. Harry reckoned he did.


End file.
